Three days later, Ed Village, early afternoon.
A few little kids were playing “cavalry and war” in the shade of the big tree at the village entrance. A three‑year‑old boy was riding on the back of his five‑year‑old brother, and beside them stood a three‑year‑old girl sucking on her fingers.
All three were siblings. Their parents were busy hosting a feast to celebrate their fifth brother Gary’s return, and half the village had been invited. The small house couldn’t hold that many children, so the kids had been shooed outside to play together at the village gate.
“Big… big horsie…”
The finger‑sucking little girl blinked her brown eyes and called to her two brothers.
The older boy had his hands and knees on the ground, pretending to be the horse. The other boy sat astride him, brandishing a dead branch as a sword, trading noisy “clack clack” blows with three other “knight and steed” pairs. Hearing his sister, he didn’t even look back. The boy playing the knight shouted, half‑mangled:
“By the ho…ly… Teh…mple’s name…!”
He jabbed the other “knight” in the side with his stick, while constantly guarding against cheap shots. He kept at it until the sound of real hooves, “da da, da da,” came very close. The boy on all fours turned his head, got such a fright that he scrambled to his feet, and dumped his younger brother face‑first into the dirt.
The children stared as a sleek, glossy bay‑red horse charged toward them. The animal was so tall and muscular, it was practically twice the size of the scrawny draft nags used for hauling in the village. The boys could only gape, slack‑jawed.
The finger‑sucking girl’s eyes were sharp. She recognized the rider and yelled in delight:
“Big Sis Leif!”
Then she took off running toward the red horse on her short little legs.
The brown‑haired knight gave a sharp “Whoa!” and hauled on the reins. Then, with a movement that seemed almost impossible for someone her size, she swung down from the saddle—at a glance, it was more like she’d just slid off the horse’s back.
The little girl bit down on her fingers, terribly worried that her Big Sis Leif would fall off such a big horse and twist her ankle. But the knight only bent her knees a little as she hit the ground, then straightened up smoothly as if nothing had happened.
Only then did the girl see that there was someone else still on the horse.
After dismounting, the knight extended a hand up toward the saddle. The woman in white robes on the horse took her hand and slowly climbed down. Yet at the very moment her boots touched earth, she still “accidentally” lost her balance and toppled into the knight’s arms, face gone pale with fright. It was a long moment before she managed to stand steadily on her own.
“Oh, my lady knight, so this is your hometown?”
The white‑robed lady official took in the grimy children at the village entrance staring at her and drooling, and the dim, shabby houses behind them. She still smiled sweetly.
“I’m truly glad I could accompany you back here.”
Leif answered with a quiet “Mm,” and unobtrusively removed her hand from the official’s waist. Thinking of the journey here, she couldn’t help letting out a sigh.
After they’d set out, the lady official had not been at all like the pampered, trouble‑making burden Leif had imagined. Quite the opposite: her presence had made getting through the checkpoints of various states and cities much easier. She needed no special care, and sometimes was even remarkably considerate—taking the initiative, for example, to stand watch at night or to gather firewood, those tedious, tiring chores no one wanted.
She was, in every respect, the perfect traveling companion.
And yet, for some inexplicable reason, every time Leif was faced with that smiling face, she had the overwhelming urge to hide somewhere and bolt three locks on the door.
Leif had even thought about using “Lily can’t carry two people” as an excuse to gently suggest they part ways at the next town.
In the end, though, the only one who seemed to pick up on that hint was Lily herself.
The red mare, with warhorse blood in her veins, was highly intelligent. Feeling her master’s lack of faith in her strength as a deep insult, she responded by bolting at full speed with both riders for a solid two hours before finally calming down.
And so, the lady official had followed Leif all the way back to the village after all.
Leif naturally shifted a step farther away from her. Looking down, she saw the little girl from the neighboring house and bent to tweak her nose before scooping her up.
“Little Sani…”
“Big Sis Leif said she’d…”
Sani wrapped her arms tight around Leif’s neck. She saw the big horse Leif was holding by the reins, and the beautiful big sister in white behind her, pretty like an angel. Miraculously, she still remembered the words Leif had said before leaving the village.
Now she repeated them in a voice that was not very clear, but very loud.
“Come back with honor, and with your bride!”
The other boys and girls took their cue and started chanting too.
“With honor and a bride!”
“Honor and a bride!”
“Honor and a bride!”
Giggling and shouting, they all headed back toward the village together.
Leif stared blankly for a full three seconds before she realized what little Sani had said. The brown‑haired knight glanced back at the white‑robed lady official following a step behind her, and was startled to see the other woman’s lips quirked up, head bowed, a suspicious flush spread over her pale cheeks.
Natiaveda said softly, with layered meaning:
“I never would have thought, Lady Knight…”
“It’s really, really not what you’re thinking…”
At this moment, almost everyone in the village was crammed into Gary’s house, celebrating his return. Ed Village had always been a place that prized stability over glory. For generations, no one here had sought fame or fortune. But now, after decades, the village had finally produced a knight—and not only a knight, but one whose name and achievements were known outside. How could the villagers not feel proud?
With Gary’s homecoming, nearly the whole village had gathered under his roof. Those who couldn’t fit inside spilled out into the doorway and yard.
Old Priest Reilly, who had finally filled his quota of knight recruits and whose every whisker fairly bristled with satisfaction, was there as well. Several black‑robed deputy priests from other parishes had also come to join the celebration.
Gary’s mother, heavy with child, came out carrying a huge tray of potato pies. She carefully studied the faces of the several sons who all looked so similar and were about the same age, until at last she spotted her fifth son Gary, sitting by Father Reilly.
She set the potato pies down on the nearest table, politely urged the neighbors to eat their fill, then straightened with a hand pressed to her back, which ached from the weight of her belly. Frowning slightly, she looked at Gary, her expression a complicated mix of pride and anxiety.
Gary’s face flushed red as he took the cup of wine Father Reilly handed him. The big fellow had always respected the priest, and now he felt a little embarrassed. He instinctively tried to stand.
But the old priest’s wrinkled hand pressed firmly on his shoulder. The deeply set eyes behind his tortoiseshell glasses looked at Gary with gentle warmth.
“Sit, sit. Today you’re the main character.”
“Gary, you’re a fine, promising child. Fresh out of training and you’ve already made such remarkable achievements. Someone from the Central Temple is coming today especially to see you. Good child, you’re sure to have a bright future ahead of you…”
Looking at Father Reilly’s radiant face, Gary downed the fruit wine in one gulp. Setting the cup aside, he scratched his head in confusion.
He was of course happy to receive the priest’s praise, but he had a vague feeling there might be some misunderstanding here. He had only just enrolled in the Knight Academy; his scores during his probation were neither good nor bad. True, he was better than those pampered noble wastrels, but he was hardly outstanding, and certainly hadn’t earned any so‑called “great merits.”
Speaking of “merits” made Gary think of that nightmarish day.
It was the one time they’d tried to take on a mission beyond their trainee assignments, imagining they could use it as a springboard to make a name for themselves. In the end, they’d nearly lost their lives instead.
Even now, Gary didn’t dare recall the details.
He hadn’t managed to explain any of this before one of the village’s wealthiest men plopped down beside him, shoving a greasy roasted lamb kidney into his hand.
The man first praised Gary to the skies and brought up those grand, intangible “achievements,” then sighed that it was a pity his own daughter was still too young—otherwise, he’d be delighted to form a marriage alliance.
Only when Gary finally heard the word “Aeseya” did he suddenly think of Leif.
Right then, the clear voices of children rang out from outside the window, so loud they almost drowned out the clink of cups and hum of conversation inside.
A black‑robed deputy priest opened the door and grabbed a passing child.
“What’s going on?”
“Big Sis Leif! Big Sis Leif is back!” the child said.
Another child running up from behind added:
“She brought a bride and honor!”
These kids didn’t really know what “honor” meant, and they certainly hadn’t seen Big Sis Leif carrying some obvious thing you could point to and say “That’s honor.” But they knew perfectly well what “bride” meant—
It was that beautiful big sister in white clothes, with flax‑colored hair and golden eyes!
Yet another child shouted:
“Big Sis Leif brought a bride back!”
The deputy envoy did not understand. He had been sent from a parish west of Ed Village as a representative, here to meet the mysterious knight who hailed from this place. It was his first time in Ed Village; he had no idea who this “Leif” was.
Father Reilly came out, and as soon as he heard Leif’s name, the joy drained from his face.
The parish producing a knight with such bright prospects had earned him praise from his superiors. Today, someone from the Central Temple itself was rumored to be coming in person to see this knight. Father Reilly could no longer remember the last time this backwater parish had merited the attention of the Temple’s center—perhaps not since the previous priest’s lifetime. Of course, the news had filled him with excitement and delight.
He always told himself he gave himself wholly, without reservation, to the parishioners under his care, that he was willing to sacrifice his life for the Most High without asking any material reward.
Still, sometimes he would allow himself a little wish: that before he died, he might have the chance to wear the golden robes of the Temple just once. That when he was buried, his grave could lie a little closer to the resting places of the saints of generations past.
He knew this was no more than a daydream. Yet the visit of that person from the Central Temple—perhaps, just perhaps, it might bring a sliver of hope.
But if that person were to see Leif…
Father Reilly suddenly remembered that he had never reported Leif’s situation to his superiors. If that great person learned that this parish had produced such a girl—sharp of tongue, scandalous in conduct—he would surely start to doubt Father Reilly’s ability to shepherd his flock.
The brown‑haired knight walked up, a child in her arms. Behind her, a white‑robed young woman followed with her head lowered, as meek as a newlywed. From a distance, they really did look like a small family of three.
From Sani’s chattering, Leif had learned that Father Reilly was in her house right now, hosting a welcome for her older brother Gary. She spotted the old man at once amid the crowd—that kindly elder who had taken such care of her when she was small.
Setting Sani down, she waved and called out with a bright smile:
“Reverend! I’m back!”
She was just about to reach into her saddlebag for her knight’s sash, her medals, and the letter of introduction bearing the royal seal of the Kingdom of Aeseya when she saw the expression on Father Reilly’s face—reluctant, but more than that, disapproving.
“Leif, you know your origins were unclear from the beginning. The late Samantha took you in and begged me to write your name into the parish register…”
The old priest cleared his throat.
Leif had a bad feeling, but still looked at him, unwilling to give up hope.
He turned his eyes away, as if unable to bear the look on her face.
“When you decided to leave Ed Village, you should have realized…”
She was no longer welcome here.
